


bound in blood

by acceptnosubstitutes



Series: anne club [2]
Category: Falling Skies
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, POV Minor Character, Spoilers: 4x11-4x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 08:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2262492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acceptnosubstitutes/pseuds/acceptnosubstitutes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They might not have known each other very long, or even very well, but somehow it feels right. To be by each other's side. At the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bound in blood

**Author's Note:**

> So I said I wanted to write something about Denny and Dick, since FS so rudely probably just murdered them in the finale, dying together. 
> 
> So....ta-da?
> 
> A note: It's not necessarily _meant_ to read as "implied/referenced self-harm" but as I read over it and realized it _could_ , better safe than sorry, yes?

If someone would have told him, even five minutes ago, that being drained, literally no other word for it, by an alien nightmare worm could be peaceful, he’d have stared at them. But the truth is, it is. And it’s not that he can’t feel the pain, because Dick is quite aware of the pain, yes. The alien nightmare worm’s sharp little teeth ripped straight through two layers of leather and cloth and sliced cleanly into skin.

Cut down deep, to the muscle, maybe even the bone. If he doesn’t die from the whole, whatever it’s doing, the blood loss alone will probably do the trick.

And he can’t really move, lying down on the ground from where some panicked people happened to nearly trample him. Dick supposes he’s doing better than they are, for all the screaming and groaning going on further and further in the distance.

Oh. That might be the blood loss talking. Hearing. Whatever.

Still, and maybe it’s the pain that triggered it, like it’s always triggered it, but he’s completely calm. Drifting off, maybe in that hazy place between being awake and falling asleep. If the damn alien nightmare worm would stop it’s messily slurping noises, stop insistently digging that one tooth back and forth across raw, torn open skin, it might even be half pleasant.

That calm state. Dick should probably be concerned about that, probably should have been years ago, when he started reacting that way to stress (pain, and then calm) but he’s going to die soon anyway. Liberties can be taken.

Something thumps heavily to the ground near him, and he turns his head, not even surprised by being allowed to move now. Thinking’s hazy. It’s Denny, he can make out through half lidded eyes, following the movement of her hands (they shake) as she presses them some places to staunch the blood flow, others to try and figure out which way’s safest to remove the alien nightmare worm.

There’s really no safe way. But then, she’s a smart kid, and her sobs of frustration echo that. Red splotches stain her shirt, cloth ripped where a worm must’ve bitten into her too. Hard to tell if she’s still bleeding, but she seems awake enough, whereas he just really wants to go to sleep all the way.

And it’s sort of rude, the way she slaps him across the face. He tries to glare at her. Isn’t really sure he succeeded. Denny’s kind of blurrier now, most sounds sort of muted, but he’s quite sure that’s her panting so harshly.

Maybe she really was bleeding more than it seemed. Shouldn’t have moved, once, however she’d done it, she’d gotten the worm off. Denny had been in front of him when the white-grey mist slowly sprawled out towards them.

But now she’s slumping to her side, coughing, leaning over him and it’s the only way he probably hears her. It takes much effort for her to urge her tired, battered body slowly down and as Dick knows what she’s trying to do, probably, if he could speak anymore he’d have told her it doesn’t really matter if she makes his arm fall asleep.

Can’t really feel any of his limbs, now.

Still, she seems to care, and so curls into his side, slumping across his chest and nearly face planting into the alien nightmare worm. Mutters something against it, a curse maybe, or maybe that’s just the vibrations of the worm still gnawing away at him.

Either way, it might not be what happens, but Dick imagines Denny, her left arm splayed awkwardly over his, clumsily gropes about for his hand. Because that’s Denny. Acts tough to a fault, and she is, but seeks touch for comfort.

He imagines he gives it to her, right then. Before the end.

It’s nice to believe, anyway, as the last thoughts of existence swirl away. Fades into nothingness. 

Really is. Nice.


End file.
